


Come Out (Wherever You Are)

by crescent_gaia



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: bigbang_mixup, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescent_gaia/pseuds/crescent_gaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is attempting to get on with his life until life is turned upside down - being kidnapped, being tortured - but the light at the end of the tunnel is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pages

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own _Sherlock_ or any of its characters. This work is based on the mix Return to Me, which can be found [here](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLpNHKlGBCqAmfKaR8AUZWzE3axXU72k-7). The chapter titles are taken from the songs, as well as the lyrics found at the top of the chapters.

_What happens to a man when_  
He spills his heart on a page and  
He watches words flow away then  
His feelings lie on the page alone 

John Watson woke up in the flat he had before his life changed – before he met Sherlock. Life was easier then. Sure, he was broke, but he had his sanity and his old mobile number. How the press had gotten a hold of it was something he’d never understood but it was easier to just pay for a new number. If he could pick the one thing that was annoying, that would be the one that would be on the top his list. Or at least the one that he was going to focus on today – the stupid mobile number change.

But it was a lie. It was all a lie. The most annoying were the questions. First it was from all over, but as time went on, it just came from Mrs. Hudson. He wouldn’t stop talking to her. Not now. He told himself that she needed him, but, to be honest, he probably needed her more. He winced as he got up from his sitting position on the bed, hobbling over to the laptop. He checked the blog first – always – and found that the counter went up. He had disabled the comments on the entries, but it was easier to do than read all the replies that Sherlock was a fraud.

He would never believe that. Ever. It was the one hope that he clung to – that Sherlock hadn’t lied. He wasn’t the only one who hoped for that. Well, Lestrade knew the truth. Lestrade had to sit through the inquiry about all the cases that they consulted on. So, there was the proof that Sherlock didn’t do anything wrong, save for the last case. The last problem. He wrote that blog post after he and Mrs. Hudson visited the grave for the first time. It was the easiest and the hardest blog post that he had ever written. But it was done.

He sighed as he looked up what needed to be done today in the paper journal that he kept. He didn’t trust the computer for his private thoughts and his schedule. He was going to visit his sister in the mental hospital. His sister had committed herself, something that she said that John should do – “we could share a room!” were her first real words about the entire matter – but he would go visit. He wasn’t going to lie to himself or others that it was getting harder to get through the days. He was sleeping longer, needing more time to get from place to place, and using the cane again. The pain had come back twice as strong a month after Sherlock was gone. So, he showered, got dressed, and ate a bit of food. He packed a small overnight bag and locked up the place. He slowly walked down the stairs and came to a sudden stop as he noticed the woman outside his door and leaning against a black car.

The only strange thing about her this time was the fact that she wasn’t typing. Her phone wasn’t anywhere near her fingers. This also wasn’t the first time that she came to collect him. He just turned and walked the other way, not wanting to talk to her or Mycroft. It’s what he turned to do today but stopped as he heard her call his name. He sighed. “My answer is no.”

“My employer doesn’t like that I’m failing him,” she said.

“I really don’t give a fuck what your employer thinks. I think he would remember that from the last time we met. If you want to give him a message, then tell him to stay the fuck away. I don’t need his money and I don’t need his pity.”

“He says that it’s not his money,” she said. “And that he’s worried.”

“Well, tell him I’m fine and that you’re making me late.” He turned to walk down the road to call a taxi.

She moved to his side. “I have a car. Let me drive you to the station.”

“No. I get in that car and I don’t have any control over where I’m going. In a taxi, I tell them where I want to go and they take me there. It’s very orderly and nice. So, tell Mycroft that I’m done playing any sort of games. I really want him to leave me alone.” He paused and looked at her. “What did you say about the money?”

“It’s not his.”

“Then… “ he thought for a moment. “I’ll go with you.” He smartly turned around and walked back to the car with the woman. He got in and sat opposite of Mycroft. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Mycroft opened a small window to the front. John could see that the woman was in the driver’s seat. “Go to the train station.” He closed the small window and turned his attention back to John. “What made you get in the car?”

“She said that it wasn’t your money. And I won’t be able to get the information from my bank. I’ve already tried when the first payment came in. I also couldn’t stop them, so you’re the closest thing I have to getting an answer.”

“Seven months ago, he put down that you were his partner. Any money left in his trust fund – half of the payment a month goes to you. The other half goes to an account that has a condition on it. If it is left dormant for six months after his death, all of the money goes back to the trust. If anyone uses it, the money keeps on being split,” Mycroft explained.

“Someone used the account.”

Mycroft opened his briefcase, getting out a photo and giving it to John. It showed a man in a deer hunter hat in a black trenchcoat with the collar pulled up. “It looks a lot like him, but it’s not. It’s one of his network people who are not about to tell me anything.”

“So you come to me, thinking that I’m going to get them to talk? I’m not about to help you find him if he’s alive. And if he is alive and asks me to help destroy you, I’ll do it.”

“I have no doubt in that,” Mycroft said. “Considering that you’re internalizing your anger and using the cane again.”

“This is why I stopped going to the shrink. I don’t need you reading any sort of files about me.”

“I haven’t,” Mycroft said. “My brother wasn’t the only one who deduced, John.”

“If I ask you to leave me alone, will you?”

“No,” Mycroft said. He opened his briefcase and pulled out several photographs of John walking about in London. “You live in London. There are cameras everywhere. I will keep my distance, but … I owe it to him to make sure that you’re alright, John.”

John chuckled darkly. “What you owed him – that was your loyalty to keep his secrets. You do it for everyone else but not him.” He looked outside to see they were coming up to the train station. “This feud between Sherlock and you. I always thought it was stupid and that you two should make up. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. I’m glad I never said anything to him about trying. Who knows what else you could have told Moriarty?” He gave the photographs back. “Goodbye Mycroft. Don’t contact me again.” He got out of the car as soon as it stopped, even though he slipped a bit on slick pavement and a nasty shock went through his leg. He straightened himself out and went into the station. He waited for the car to leave and came back out to the beggar that was sitting on a bench. 

“Got any change, sir?” The man asked.

John wrote out a quick message, wrapped it around a 50 pound note and slipped it in. “Sorry, only got that,” he said and went into the station proper.

*~*~*~*

Three hours later, Lestrade’s phone rang. “Lestrade,” he said. “Why are – I’m on my way.” He grabbed his coat and went to Donovan and Anderson’s desk. “We’re needed.”

“What for?” Donovan asked as she put on her coat.

“It was a suspected bomb in a train station,” Lestrade replied. “It changed into a missing person’s case.”

“Isn’t that not our department?” Anderson asked.

“The person missing is John Watson,” Lestrade replied. The three moved quickly out of the floor and down the stairs. They were to the train station in moments, due to lights and sirens all the way. He was about to walk into the building with Donovan and Anderson when one of the duty cops called him over. “Go in and look,” he said and went over. “What is it?”

“Man wants to speak with you, sir,” the duty cop replied and motioned to where a male beggar was sitting in the shadows. “Said that the man missing gave him a 50 pound note. He’s the last one who saw him.”

“Thank you,” Lestrade said and went over to the male beggar. He noticed that the man was wearing a deer hunter cap, a dark and almost black looking trenchcoat and that the man was very pale. When he got to the man, he knew exactly who it was. “Oh shit.”

“I would say language, but it is better than being punched,” Sherlock said quietly.

“How – no, I don’t want to know. Mostly because I might kill you if I know how you survived.”

“Molly helped,” Sherlock said. “He was going to visit his sister. She committed herself to a mental hospital after she nearly hit a kid while driving drunk.”

“He’s going to kill you when we find him.”

“I know,” Sherlock said.

“Sherlock – why now?”

Sherlock held up the newspaper which had, in big bold letters, “Sherlock Holmes Acquitted – Vigilante Was Hero”. “I had to wait until the official inquiry was over and the papers told. Glad it didn’t take longer than six months, as I had an account that would have closed on me.” He pointed down to smaller print on the front page – “Hero alive”. 

“Nobody pays attention to the smaller print, do they?”

“Mycroft does, but he’s about to have bigger problems than this,” Sherlock said. “He also doesn’t have time to read the papers himself until at least lunch time. Then, whoever didn’t tell him about the smaller print is going to be sacked. I would feel sorry for Mycroft, but he’s an idiot.”

“Would you like to go inside and look at the scene? Or have you already done that?”

“Quick grab, right near the bathroom. His cane is gone as well, which means that it is either going to be used on him or he used it on his attacker. Whatever would be left on there would identify him.” Sherlock got up and took off his hat. “I really do hate this hat. It’s his fault.”

“Come on,” Lestrade said and led the way inside. “Are we going to have problems?” He asked as Anderson and Donovan looked at Lestrade and then the man beside him.

“He’s too close to the person missing,” Anderson said as Donovan just stared at Sherlock.

“I think that John would push me away and punch me at the moment,” Sherlock said. “Donovan is coming up with something but her brain needs more time. I don’t want her near us. I don’t trust her.”

Donovan looked at Lestrade. “And I don’t trust him. So pick.”

“Go outside, Donovan,” Lestrade said and looked to Sherlock.

Donovan walked outside and to the car that she came with the group in. She pulled out a cell phone from a hidden pocket in her coat. She dialed the only number in there, looking around as she heard the phone ring. “He’s back,” she said as she heard the phone picked up. “What do you want me to do?”

The person on the other end of the phone hung up. A text message followed that simply said “discredit, slow, or kill – your choice.”

Donovan smiled as she read the text. She deleted it and the phone history before putting the phone back in the hidden pocket. She went over to the duty cops, helping to keep the press back and keeping one eye looking over her shoulder.


	2. Mistakes

_You can’t fly these wings  
You can’t sleep in this box with me._

_Let me save you, hold this rope_

John winced as he woke up and blinked a few times to clear the spots in his vision. Once he could see, the first thing he noticed was that they were high up. He could easily see the Eye but he couldn’t fully make out the other landmarks that they were close to. The fact that they were high up meant that one idea for escape was cut off to him. He slowly got up, amazed that he wasn’t tied to a chair, and looked around for his cane. Not seeing it in the room, he used a bit of furniture here and there. He got to one of the doors in the room and tried it, opening up to a bathroom. He closed it quietly before moving over to the only other door in the room. He pressed his ear up to the door and heard voices on the other side.

“He’s going to ask me if I’ve seen him,” Irene said. “You know that.”

There was a chuckle. “Which is the reason that I’m not letting you see him,” Moriarty said. “I want his mind to wonder what is happening.”

“Fine. May I at least tell him that he’s alive?”

“He knows that,” Moriarty replied. “Give him the package and then you’re done, Miss Adler. At least with me for the moment.”

John heard the sound of Irene’s heels walk away. He stood a bit back from the door, expecting Moriarty to come in. When that didn’t happen, he counted to ten and then tried the door. He swore under his breath, as the door was locked, and stepped back as the door was opened. He was about to rush at whoever came in but stopped short as he noticed the gun. “That’s a bit unfair.”

“I really don’t care,” Moriarty said. “Back to your chair, John.”

“And if I don’t?” John countered.

“I’ll give you a real reason to have a limp,” Moriarty replied. “It’s up to you.”

John looked at Moriarty before slowly moving back over to the chair. He sat down and leaned back. “So, what is this about?”

“You are so boring, John.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve figured out that Sherlock is alive, which is something I always thought. There were eyewitnesses that said there were two men on the roof, but there was only Sherlock’s body. I was close enough to the police that they let me look at the report. There was blood on the roof. They determined that the blood came from a blood pack, something an actor or someone playing an actor would be able to get his hands on.” John paused. “I think you’re just pissed that you couldn’t use Richard Brook after you made Sherlock jump so you wouldn’t be hindered by him.”

“Maybe you’re not boring,” Moriarty said. “Or maybe you’ve just been trained well.”

John shrugged. “The way that I see things, you’re being the boring one. Sherlock still has to play dead and you could have done what you wanted. With this, you’re making him come back to chase you. He’s not going to like that.”

Moriarty picked up one of the newspapers on the table and handed it to John. “At the bottom.”

“… Oh,” John said and looked up at Moriarty. “I’m still not going to play your game.”

“Yes you are, John,” Moriarty said as he pulled out his cell phone. He brought something up on it and showed it to John. It was the ward where Harriet was staying and the camera zoomed in on her. “It is a shame that it took her nearly hitting a kid to get help, doesn’t it? She’s doing very well, considering that it took her a few days to open to the people there. One call and her meds will be changed and you’ll have never said goodbye.”

John watched the video that Moriarty was showing him. He looked up at the consulting criminal and debated if he could wrestle the phone away. Possibly also get the gun before getting shot. Apparently he was taking too long as he heard the gun click. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

Moriarty grinned and handed John a cell phone. “Call him.”

“Going back to something you did before?”

“It’s a gun instead of a bomb this time. A lot faster and a lot less deadly for me,” Moriarty said. “The number is already dialed for you.”

John swallowed and pressed the send button.

*~*~*~*

“It’s good to have you back,” Molly said as she came up to where Sherlock was working on the microscope. “I think we all kind of missed you.”

Sherlock didn’t look up from what he was doing. “I think you missed me. I doubt that others did.”

“No, Lestrade did,” Molly said. “He was the one who questioned me about what you did in the lab. We talked about you. I did wish that I could tell him, but I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I’ll put a word in with him so you don’t get in trouble.” Sherlock looked up from the scope. “There’s everything and nothing there. It’s too neat. Of course, they would send a professional after him, but why wait until now? It doesn’t make sense. I know that he doesn’t have any debts to settle and I paid off the Afghans that were after him.”

“Why would they be after John?”

“Because John was good at what he did,” Sherlock said. “He wasn’t just a medic, Molly. He killed when he had to and he lost lives from time to time. Do you know if they’ve gone through any sort of patient list?”

“He wasn’t practicing,” Lestrade said as he came into the lab. “And I’m not sure if I should ever let the two of you be alone again.”

“A trick cannot be done twice,” Sherlock pointed out. “Do you have anything?”

“Just a woman asking to see you,” Lestrade said. “She has a package for you and won’t let us scan it. Said that she’d only give it to you. She also says her name is Irene Adler.”

Sherlock smiled. “Let’s go see her then.” He followed Lestrade up to the office proper and to the room where Irene was waiting for them. “Irene, I seem to have misplaced a friend.”

“Lucky that an acquaintance of mine wants to help you find him,” Irene said and gave over the box. “I didn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping. I was just contacted by my acquaintance due to the fact that I failed in my last mission. He decided that my debt wasn’t fully paid off.”

“So you’ve become a delivery woman,” Sherlock said. “Quaint.”

“Just open it already,” Irene said.

“Sherlock, we should scan it,” Lestrade said.

“It’s not a bomb,” Sherlock said. “Irene doesn’t want to die, so she would have made her excuses and left already. This is something of John’s. Considering the size, it’s his missing cane.”

“It’s not the only thing in there,” Irene said.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and opened the box. He grabbed a pair of gloves, lifting out the cane and looking it over. He noticed the slight bent and there was a bit of blood on it. “Thought so.” He looked down at the box as it started to ring. He moved the newspaper and found the cell phone, answering it. “Hello?”

“Hello Sherlock,” John said, his voice breaking.

“John, where are you?” Sherlock asked.

“That would make it too easy. This call is to show that he is alive. I would think, Sherlock, that with your mind, you could easily figure out who is giving him the words to say. I do not like using the same trick twice, but you forced my hand, honestly.”

“…that’s not possible,” Sherlock said. “You put the gun in your mouth and fired. You died.”

“You never checked for a pulse. John was able to figure it out. You should be able to as well. Or is your brain just too big for you?”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “Oh.”

“Good boy. Now, a bit of rules. There is no overall time limit this time, considering that I have the best leverage at the moment. I want you to do a series of tasks for me, Sherlock. When those are done, I’ll release John. It will be up to you if he is whole or not. Finish the tasks on time and he won’t be hurt. Finish them before time is up and he gets a bit of a reward. Finish late and.. well, the leg will be the first thing. He likes the cane so much; why not give him a real reason to use it?”

“What’s the first task then?” Sherlock asked.

“In good time,” John said. “Ta for now.” And the line went dead.

Sherlock looked at the phone before looking at Irene. “You’re going to tell us where you were when you got this.”

“A tall building that gives a great look out to the Eye,” Irene said. “I can’t give you more than that, Sherlock. I was blindfolded and my ears were plugged going in and out of the building. He knew that you were going to ask me. He made sure that I can’t answer.” She paused. “I tried to get into the room where John is, so I could give you more. I wasn’t let in. Which means that there was a signifier in the room. You’re going to have to go on the clues you have. However, I am ready and able to help you.”

“You don’t have to repay me for saving your life,” Sherlock countered.

“I’m not,” Irene said. “John is an innocent, Sherlock. You drew him into your life without a thought about what would happen to him. I’ve done it before too. We don’t fully think about what we’re doing to others, just that we want them there. But it’s different for the two of you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “But you’ve known that since you met us.”

“OF course I did,” Irene said with a smile. “When I didn’t have any clothes on, you watched John being uncomfortable. It amused you but you were also very willing to give me your coat to stop him being uncomfortable.”

“Didn’t realize it was that obvious,” Sherlock said and thought about it. “Lestrade – “

“I’m already putting people on looking for a building with a good view of the Eye,” Lestrade said. “With only that to go on, we’re going to have a lot of results.”

“But it’s a start,” Sherlock said. “I’ve got to get back down to the lab. He’s given us a clue - not sure why.”

“He didn’t see the blood?” Irene offered.

“Maybe,” Sherlock said. “Either way – care to join me?”

“I’d love too,” Irene said and followed Sherlock down to the lab. She smiled at seeing Molly and kissed Molly’s cheek. “How are you?”

“Good,” Molly said with a smile.

“Now that I didn’t see,” Sherlock said. He went over to the machines, letting Molly and Irene catch up as he started to figure out who had been hired to take John. Thankfully, even though the blood had dried, it was easy to scrape some off and use that to put through the machines to get a match. He pulled up a chair as the computer sped through different people. He touched John’s cane before picking it up and holding it close to him. He had noticed that Molly and Irene left the room to leave him alone and he was grateful for that. He wanted to be alone just in case he started to break down. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as the computer just clicked on through the different people for a match.


	3. Return

_I can’t stand the distance – I can’t dream alone  
I can’t wait to see you – Yes I’m on my way home_

Sherlock was away from the microscope, leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed as he tried to think. He was trying to get to his mind castle, wanting to be able to look at what he already knew. He sighed and opened his eyes, looking around the lab. Molly went off with Irene to talk about something and he knew that he was alone. He just never realized how quiet the lab could be, which is probably why he liked it so much. 

It just wasn’t helping that every time he closed his eyes, he saw John. That only made his mind wander to the last time he really saw John and then the time before that. He still believed that it was a good idea to let John see him jump, even though it meant going backwards for John. He had even seen the limp when John was at the grave, so he wasn’t surprised at all about the cane. He opened his eyes when Molly came in and handed him a journal in a plastic evidence bag. “What’s this?”

“John’s journal. Lestrade asked me to keep it safe.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re giving it to me?” 

She also tossed him a box of evidence gloves, which he caught easily. “Yes. And not to make you feel more guilty. You don’t have to read it. I just thought – well, I thought that you would want it.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled at that. “Do you need a cup of tea or anything?”

“Tea would be nice.”

“I’ll get it,” she said and left the lab.

He put the evidence gloves on the desk by the microscope and just looked at John’s journal. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he found in there. However, he still put on a pair of gloves and opened the evidence bag, gently pulling out the journal. He flipped open to the first page and smiled as he saw _I still believe in Sherlock Holmes_. He closed the journal, just holding it in his hands as he leaned back in the chair again.

This time, the details of what he knew to find John came crystal clear. What he didn’t expect was to find himself at the memory of being at the graveyard, watching John and Mrs. Hudson and not being surprised that Mycroft didn’t come. Knowing that it was better that way as Mycroft would have known in an instant that something was off. But his attention was drawn back to John, standing alone and focusing on his words.

_You told me once that you weren’t a hero… um.. there were times I didn’t even think you were human, but, let me tell you this: you were the best man and human… human being I’ve ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, that’s… uh. There._

_I was so alone, and I owe you so much._

_Look, please, there’s just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t. Be. Dead. Would you do that, just for me, just… stop it. Stop this!_

His eyes snapped opened as he heard the door to the lab open. He turned to the sound and saw it was Irene. 

“Molly had to run a quick errand.”

“Ah,” he said and took the cup of tea. He sniffed at it first. “Thank you.”

“If I wanted to drug you, I’d do it in a better place than this. And with less people around.”

“Good point,” he said. “So, why are you still here?”

“You already know that.”

“Yes, but it’s easier if you just tell me. I really doubt it’s just because of John.” He sipped at the tea. “I had nothing to worry about – Molly made the tea.”

“And what if it is?” She leaned against the counter. “Or would that make you jealous?”

“Didn’t you ask John a similar question when you were annoying me with all your tests?”

“Oh you liked it.” She smiled as he looked away from her. “It’s not a bad thing to admit it. And I knew you were doing it to get a rise out of John and I don’t mind in the least. I thought that I had taught you to keep those you care about close to you.”

“Moriarty had three different gun men – one on John, one on Mrs. Hudson, and one on Lestrade. I was not about to let any of them die in my place.”

“Well – I guess I have to forgive you now,” Lestrade said. He came into the lab without Sherlock noticing for once. “Your brother is here to see you. He’s also cross and yelling at anyone who comes into my office.”

“That does sound like Mycroft,” Sherlock said. He got up, putting the cup of tea next to the microscope. “Feel like coming with?” He asked of Irene.

“And see the Iceman in all his fury? Love to.”

Sherlock and Irene followed Lestrade up to the office. He stopped as they got into the bullpen and stopped to look at Donovan. He noticed the two different phones with one tinged with a bit of pink. He started to walk again as Irene came back for him. He waited until they were in the office with the door closed and Mycroft was on the phone. “Lestrade – has Sergeant Donovan taken on any undercover work?”

“Not to my knowledge, why?” 

“She has two different phones. One of them has a smidgen of pink around it,” Sherlock replied. 

Lestrade was about to reply but stopped as Mycroft got off the phone. “Sir.”

“Yes,” Mycroft said and looked to Sherlock. “I believe you have an explanation about this.”

Lestrade decided not to ask anything. He dialed his phone instead, calling a contact in a different department.

“I heard that you were yelling. Are you done?” 

“I may or may not be,” Mycroft said. “Sherlock – “

“Noble cause and no, you don’t get to ask more than that. What did you and John argue about?”

“What?” Mycroft asked.

“When John got out of the car, he slipped. Now, a man like him, using a cane, knows how to place his feet. He’s going to know not to slip, unless it’s raining, which it wasn’t. It was dry. So there was nothing to slip on, but he placed his feet wrong because he wanted to get out and in a hurry. So, what did you two argue about?”

“We weren’t arguing. He was just cross,” Mycroft said. 

Sherlock smiled. “Was he now?”

“You didn’t let him in on the fact that you allowed me to tell Moriarty everything, did you?”

“I never thought it would come back to hurt me in the end,” Sherlock replied.

“And you didn’t want John anywhere near him,” Irene said. “Oh you’re good in the end.”

Sherlock grinned. 

“Miss Adler, what are you doing here?” Mycroft asked.

“She brought the box with John’s cane in it. Which included a cell phone with Moriarty telling us that he has John. And that he’s going to want me to do something but we don’t know what yet. So, what do you want, brother dear?” He paused for a moment. “And you shouldn’t fire your assistant. It’s not her fault the newspapers print everything all wrong.”

“I am not firing her,” Mycroft said. 

“So it’s the one that doubles for your driver?” Irene asked.

“Alright, thanks,” Lestrade said. “She’s not doing any undercover work. All of you, stay here.” He left the office.

Sherlock moved to watch out of the window of Lestrade’s office. He waited for a full minute before stepping out of the office and over to Donovan’s desk. 

“I told you to wait,” Lestrade said.

“I don’t have any second phone,” Donovan said. “He’s just doing this because he knows I’m the one who reported him.”

“Yes, I do, but I did see you use another phone. So, the question then turns to what are you hiding?” Sherlock asked.

Donovan bit her bottom lip. She was about to say something when the sound from the bottom drawer of her desk gave away the phone’s location. Lestrade got the phone and went through the text messages and through the call log. “I can explain.”

“I doubt it,” Sherlock said.

“Anderson,” Lestrade called.

“Sir?” Anderson asked as he came over.

“Escort Donovan to an interrogation room,” Lestrade answered. He handed the phone to Sherlock, letting him look through the texts. “It seems like they were planning this for a while.”

“It’s got to be more than just the two of them. We don’t know how many Moriarty has in London.”

“What about her?” Lestrade asked, meaning Irene.

“If she truly wanted to leave, then she would. If she truly wanted all of us to die, then she wouldn’t be in the building. I know she seems suspect – “

“And having an argument with Lord Mycroft.”

“Lord?” Sherlock asked and wrinkled his nose. “Try Duke.”

“Do I want to know how connected your family is?”

“No,” Sherlock replied. “At least, not from me. I hate talking about it.”

“Not surprising. From me, personally, I’m glad you’re back.”

Sherlock nodded. “The log and the texts seem to start around the same time as the Fall happened. So she hasn’t been working for him long.”

“Sherlock.”

“I’ll attempt to be normal after we get John back,” Sherlock said.

“I won’t hold my breath then. I’ll get what I can out of her. Otherwise, we’re going to just have to wait until he contacts us.”

“I know,” Sherlock said. “I’ll try to get Mycroft out of your office.”

“Thank you,” Lestrade said as he went off to deal with Donovan.

Sherlock took a step towards the office before turning on his heel and going back to the lab. He wanted to look at the cane one more time before he went back in and dealt with Irene and his brother.


	4. Robots

_In our dreams, we can be complete  
If we go to sleep  
We can wake up home again._

John had been dosing when he jolted awake by thinking he heard a knock. He caught his breath as he realized he was in the same damn hotel room. It had been a couple days now and he thought Moriarty was trying his luck. There were hoops for Sherlock to jump through, that were cleared easily, but he wasn’t able to give any clues. The calls were too short to be traced and just - he wished that this was a nightmare instead of reality. Hell, he’d take arguing with Sherlock over what to watch on the telly over this. The waiting was getting to him and he couldn’t just walk around the room, even though he felt better by doing it. It was easier to just sit and wait. This time, he did get up and move over to the door, pressing his ear to it.

“My pawn’s been taken. Therefore, we have to move him.” He could recognize Moriarty’s voice anywhere. He wasn’t sure what that said about him and he pushed the thought out of his mind.

“Sir, is that wise?” Another man asked. His voice was a deep Cornish accent and sounded harsh against Moriarty’s smooth voice.

“Yes.” A pause. “Give him this. He’ll go down like a baby. Nothing to worry about.”

“Yes sir,” the other man said. 

John stopped listening to the conversation, quickly looking around the room to find something to use. His eyes fell upon a small lamp on a side table. He unplugged it and lifted it, feeling light in his hands. He put himself half way between the table and the door, the lamp in his hands and ready to swing it and whoever came through the door. What he didn’t notice is that, when he walked, the limp was gone.

He took a deep breath as the door unlocked and then opened. He waited as the man came into the room and swung the lamp, aiming for the hands first. His hit was true and whatever was in the man’s hands flew across the room. He swung again, this time aiming for the face. Considering the man was confused, that also hit home. He then threw the lamp had into the man’s legs and dove after what fell to the floor. He noticed it was a syringe, full of some sort of liquid - _probably a sleeping agent_ John thought, and he took proper hold of it. The man was just getting up as John moved back over and quickly used the needle on him. He breathed a sigh of relief as the man quickly fell asleep. 

He picked up the lamp, not noticing the man wasn’t breathing at all, and started down the hallway. He kept the lamp in a defensive position, looking around for Moriarty or any other of the goons. He made it to the elevator, pressing the button and his heart sinking as the button didn’t light up.

“I will say, John, that it was a very nice show,” Moriarty said as he stepped out from where he was hiding. “But do you really think that I would let you go that easily?”

“Yes,” John said as he turned to Moriarty. “You didn’t think I was going to do this.” He tightened his grip on the lamp. If anything, he could use it as a shield for the gun that he was certain was going to appear at any second. But, as a precaution, he was shielding his bad leg at the moment.

Moriarty chuckled. “But I did. I must say, your leg is looking a lot better. You didn’t limp at all. Turns out that you don’t need Sherlock to feel better – you just need some excitement. I can certainly make sure that you have that.”

“You stay away from me.” John swallowed. “And I’m not gay.”

“Despite all evidence to the contrary. Johnny boy, why deny something that is clearly true?”

The elevator dinged behind John. “Turns out that it’s time for me to go after all.”

Moriarty just smirked at that. “If you say so.”

John heard the doors open, stepping backwards and felt a needle go into his shoulder. He felt someone strong wrap arms around his waist as his arms let go of the lamp, sending it crashing to the floor. He could still hear and feel, he wasn’t asleep, but he felt like he couldn’t move anything at all. 

“Pull the stop,” Moriarty commanded to the person that was holding John.

The man did as Moriarty asked. “And the lamp?” The voice had a Middle Eastern accent to the English words.

“Leave it,” Moriarty said. “He can see that John tried to free himself. I do wonder what they’re going to make of what happened in the other room. Too bad we can’t be here for that.” He turned and went to the stairwell, starting down.

The man hefted John, putting him over the shoulder and following Moriarty down the stairs. When they got down to the bottom, it opened up to an alley where a car was waiting. 

“Lay him down in the backseat,” Moriarty commanded as he got into the passenger seat and fiddled with the GPS.

The man nodded and did as Moriarty asked.

John got a good look at the man’s face when he was laid down in the backseat. If his face wasn’t frozen as the rest of his body, he would have given a look of shock. He had seen the man before, when he was over in Afghanistan, and there was a part of him that hoped he would never see the man again. His eyes gave away that he noticed the man.

“I know, it’s been too long since you fixed my arm. And then made my wife and children disappear. I am lucky that I have friends in high places that will help me find my family. But I do not think you are going to like it all that much.” He laughed as he shut the door and moved into the driver’s seat. He started up the car and used the directions that Moriarty programmed into the GPS to go to their next location.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock watched as the person from the Internal Affairs department was questioning Donovan. Part of him felt pleased about this and part that he wished that he hadn’t figured it out so quickly. The other part wondered why Donovan waited two days before deciding to speak to anyone, like she knew that he was going to have to work. He looked over as the door opened and Lestrade came in. He went back to watching the interview.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“There was nothing else to do,” Sherlock said. “And Mycroft and Irene figured themselves out.” He didn’t like the fact that both were there for the second day in a row. If only because it meant there were fewer places where Sherlock could hide from everyone.

“Good enough for the both of them. She left with him a bit ago.”

“Why did you come in here?” Sherlock asked.

“We found something.”

“Where?” Sherlock asked. He listened and thought of where the hotel is. “That has a brilliant view of the Eye.”

“Our thoughts exactly. And there’s a man dead up in one of the rooms. Not John but it might have a connection.”

Sherlock got up, grabbed his coat and scarf and was ready to go a moment later. He followed Lestrade out and to a car, getting in and being quiet as they passed by London on the way to the hotel. It was only when they got to the hotel that he thought someone said something. “What?”

“We were discussing if you should stay out or not,” Lestrade said. “Until we’ve secured the crime scene.”

“I’ll go with your judgment.”

“… Sorry?” Lestrade asked.

“I know I’m an outsider here. I’m trying to gain some good will. So if you stay that I should wait until you ask for me, then that’s what I am going to do.”

“Alright – thanks Sherlock,” Lestrade said as he got out of the car with Anderson. 

Sherlock sighed and leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. In the back of the car, with the silence around him, he was able to look through everything. The cane, which was used against John, which meant that John was fighting too much. He opened his eyes as Anderson knocked on the door and then opened it. “Ready?”

“Yep,” Anderson said. “You seem less – well – yourself.”

Sherlock smiled at that. “Have you ever heard of poker face, Anderson?”

“Yes – ah,” Anderson said. He handed Sherlock a pair of gloves before pressing the elevator button and then the floor button. 

“Do you know how many fingerprints are found a day on elevators?” Sherlock put on the gloves though.

“Just following orders,” Anderson said. 

Sherlock nodded and was grateful that the elevator ride up to the top floor was brief. He stepped out and looked at the hallway. A lamp lying in front of the other elevator and a syringe in the middle of the other elevator. Looking down the hallway, there didn’t seem to be any sign of a struggle. He followed Anderson down the hallway to the suite room. Now, here there was a bit of a struggle, with a spot for the missing lamp. He looked down at the dead man and then up at Lestrade. “May I?”

“Yes.”

Sherlock moved the body, seeing the syringe stuck in the man’s neck. “That was meant for him.”

“How do you know?” Lestrade asked.

“Because the man is dead. Moriarty knows John’s background and I learned it first hand. John knows how to fight; Moriarty would have used that to his advantage to get rid someone with performance issues.” He looked over the rest of the room and was about to say something else when the phone rang. He put it on speaker phone. “Hello?”

“It’s been a long time since we talked, Sherlock,” Moriarty said. 

“Where’s John?”

“Turns out that the sleeping draught given to him is taking a longer time to wear off,” Moriarty said. “Did you like our present?”

Sherlock looked down at the body. “Who was he?”

“Why do you think I’m going to give you any hints?” Moriarty asked.

Sherlock paused. “I want proof of life.”

There was a beep on the phone as a picture of John sleeping came up and then the phone call ended.


	5. Calendar

_Put another X on the calendar  
Summer's on its deathbed  
There is simply nothing worse  
Than knowing how it ends_

John woke up with a jolt when cold water was poured over his head. He tried to keep his breath short, so they couldn’t hear his fear, as he looked around at the room that he was in. It was dark, save for the spot of light that he was in. He was tied to a chair, which he wasn’t shocked about, and he looked around to figure out who else was in the room. He couldn’t see Moriarty, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t in the room watching. He turned his attention to the man who sat down in front of him – a tall, Afghan man who fit all the physical stereotypes.

“Doctor Watson.”

John closed his eyes and tried to think of the man’s name. His mind felt so muddled, like he was trying to look through cloudy water. The silence of the room helped him in focusing and getting the name that he wanted. “Mister Keleft.”

Keleft smiled. “I am glad that you remember me.”

“Well, it’s not every day that I got to meet a man who survived a bomb blast with no wounds at all,” John replied. “At least, I don’t think you – no, there was something with your eye.”

“Bit of something hit my eye and left a scar, nothing worse.”

“Considering it could have hit the eye and left you without it,” John said. “Where’s Moriarty?”

“Around.”

“Keleft, you don’t want to do this,” John said. “There’s nothing I can really do for you. It also doesn’t help that I still feel completely drugged, save for being able to talk and probably move.” He looked around again, thinking he saw something in the corner, before turning his attention back to the man in front of him who was moving.

“There’s only one thing I want to talk to you about and you don’t need to move for it.”

“And what is that?” John asked.

“Where’s my wife?”

John blinked. He did remember Keleft’s wife, if only because she was breathtakingly beautiful, as long as there weren’t any bruises on her. He found her once with a black eye and a big bruise on the cheek, giving her something for the eye and asking what happened before he was told by others in his unit that he shouldn’t be asking. After that first time, she started to seek him out and talked to him. About how she never did anything wrong, but that her husband’s temper got the better of him, with no better evidence when she came in with Keleft and her children when the youngest had a spiral fracture. Of course, Keleft was calm and nice back then. 

“I asked you a question.”

“I know,” John said. “I don’t know where your wife is.”

Keleft nodded as he got up. He went over to a table, looking over what was on it. “She was a good woman until you and the rest came into our home.”

“Those were the orders from my superiors. I just did my job, as a soldier and as a doctor. I set your son’s arm when nobody else would be able to, not without a lot of questions. You knew how the other doctors hated kids being hurt, so you were happy when she mentioned me.” John swallowed as he saw Keleft turn with a metal bar in his hands. “And that’s not going to help.”

“It will because you are lying,” Keleft said as he moved over to John. He swung the metal bar hard against John’s leg.

John cried out as he felt the bone clearly break. He was going to make a mental contract not to cry out, but the action happened too quickly for him to think of anything. 

“Where is she?!” Keleft asked.

“I don’t know!” John replied. He tried to take a deep breath instead of the gasps that he was doing instead. “She took the kids, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” Keleft said. “She had no right to do that. According to our traditions, the children are mine, not hers!”

“In our word, children belong to the mother,” John said quietly. “At least, as long as it is best for the child. But nine times out of ten, that is what happened. I really don’t know where your wife is or your children. If I did, I would have told you right after you broke my leg.”

Keleft thought about that for a moment before putting down the metal bar. 

John breathed a sigh of relief before his hand was taken and twisted the way that it was not meant to go. He heard the bone pop and felt it go out of place from the way that it should be. He managed not to cry out in pain this time, but it was bloody hard. “I don’t know!”

“But you know something! You know something or he would not have brought you here to me!”

John looked up at Keleft and debated what he was going to say next. Mostly because, if Moriarty clearly wasn’t here, he was going to die due to a snapped neck. On the other hand, he did tell her not to stay there too long and to never tell anyone where she was going to go afterwards. There was also the plus that the center closed down three months ago. “I sent her to the East End. There’s a friend of mine there, near Christ Church, that takes in battered women.”

Keleft put his hands up on John’s shoulders but there was a sound from behind them that made Keleft move his hands down to John’s hand. He popped the bone back into place. “Might not want to use that for a while, Doctor.”

Moriarty walked back over to them. “Good enough?”

“Yes,” Keleft said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Other way around, Keleft,” Moriarty said and looked at John. He moved over to the table, grabbing a bottle of something and putting some of it on a rag. He moved back over to John, chloroforming John and making sure that the doctor went back into unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock looked down at the body in the morgue. They had a name, place of work, and all of the little bit of information they needed. It turned out that the man was trying to pay off debts and the Russian mob gave the debt to Moriarty when he paid for it. Sherlock figured that out by the fact that the hands showed signs of healing – a punishment for gambling – and that the death was by a very nasty combination of chemicals. He didn’t want to think that would have happened if John hadn’t tried to escape. He had also pointed out that, due to the man’s hands and where the fingerprints were on the cane, that this would be their man for the start of the kidnapping. He looked over as the door to the morgue opened and it was Irene standing there. “Am I needed?”

“Not yet,” Irene said. She crossed over to Sherlock and looked down at the man. “I’m happy that’s not John.”

“You’re not the only one.” He sighed. “How do I tell him? When I see him again?”

“As I told you the first time, you already have the words for that,” she said. “What I think that you really need to do is show through your deeds than speak with your mouth.”

“Hrm.”

“What?” she asked.

“I already thought about doing that and it was the best course of action.”

“Then why were you asking me?” she asked.

“I wanted confirmation.” He looked to the cell phone as it buzzed. “Do you fancy a walk?”

“What did he text you?”

“An address,” he replied as he grabbed his coat and scarf. “You don’t want to come with?”

“No, I do. I’m just wondering how you’re going to get out of here without anyone noticing.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” He went out the door, turning down a hallway and went through what seemed like a maze of them before reaching a door. He took a card out of his pocket and swiped it, smiling as it beeped and the door opened for them. “I knew they wouldn’t turn off her key card for a while.”

“Whose key card is that?” She asked as she followed him out of the building and down an alley to the main street. 

“Former Sergeant Donovan,” he replied. “She didn’t need it anymore, so I thought I would have it for a while.”

“Good move,” she said and hailed a taxi for them. 

He opened the door for her when one stopped for them. She got in, moving over so he could get in as well. He gave the address to the driver and sat back in the seat. He took out a pair of gloves and gave them to Irene. “We’re going to the man’s home address.”

“Wouldn’t they have gone there already?”

“No,” he said. “For one, there was no connection from his work address to anywhere he lived. His address said that he was out in the Thames. However, I texted what was used on him to our boss for the moment and he gave me this address.”

“Sherlock?”

“What?” he answered. “Yes, I thought of that. No, I don’t care. I want clues and they’re being given out too slowly.”

“So you’re walking into a trap to get more knowledge.”

“Yes,” he said. “Still want to come?”

“Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow at hearing that.

“You work better when you have someone with you, admit it.”

He sighed and looked out the window. “No.”

“No you’re not going to admit it or no you don’t?”

“First one,” he said. “Can we not get into this now?”

“Of course,” she said and was quiet for about five minutes. “What do you think we’re going to fine?”

“I don’t know, which is why quiet would be best, so I can focus when we get there,” he said.

She nodded and was quiet for the rest of the trip. When the taxi came to a stop in front of a rundown building, she let him pay and got out with him. “Is this what you expected to find?”

“Yes,” he said as he walked up to the door and looked at the buzzer names. “Top flat.” He tried the door, not surprised when it opened, and let himself and Irene in. The two of them went up the stairs to the third floor, the top floor, and saw there was only one door on the level. 

“Must be a big flat. Terrible thing about the neighborhood,” she said.

He was quiet and tried the door. He got out his lock picking tools, kneeling down and unlocking the door in just a few minutes. He got up when it opened into the apartment and went in, turning on a light as he did so. He looked to Irene, who put on the gloves. He could see she was about to ask about his when he held up his hands, which already had gloves on them. 

The flat was a nice one, with a sizeable living room, a nice kitchen, and then a couple of bedrooms. He went into what looked like the most used bedroom and noticed the curtains were open. “That’s – “ he quickly ducked and a bullet hit the wall behind him. “Irene! Get out!” He crawled along the floor until he was out of sight and ignored his ringing cell phone. He got out of the apartment and looked around for Irene. His cell phone rang for the second time and he picked it up. “What?”

“Come across the street,” Irene replied.

“On my way,” he said and hung up the phone. He made his way across the street, where she was holding a man against the wall with most of her body. “Thank you. Even though I’m not sure how you saw that before me.”

“I’m not emotionally tied to the case. He said that he’s not saying anything.”

“I’m not,” the man said.

Sherlock looked over the man. He took one of the man’s hands and looked it over. “You’re a sailor.”

“I try to be, sometimes,” the man said.

“Place we’re looking for next is down by the docks,” he said as he called in to Lestrade. He was treated to a lecture when Lestrade actually got there but he was okay with that. When Lestrade left Sherlock to do something, Irene came over to him. “Your brother wanted me to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Moriarty is using John against Mycroft to get a clean slate,” she said.

He thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Makes sense to me. Are you coming with us to the docks?”

“Wouldn’t think of not doing so,” she replied. They waited a bit longer for Lestrade to finish up sealing off the area and left with him to the docks.


	6. Sorry

_I’m sorry  
For everything I could have done  
Our lives didn’t work the way  
They should have…_

John coughed as he started to wake up. He was getting tired of the being drugged, woken up, being drugged again. It didn’t seem like Moriarty’s style, but at the same time, Moriarty didn’t seem to have a standard style. He seemed to be more like anything goes. He tried to move his arms and was surprised when he could. He looked down and was surprised when his legs were also free. He tried to stand out and felt the pain in his leg, which made him just sit down again. He breathed through his nose, closing his eyes and biting on the inside of his cheek to forget the pain that was going through the rest of his body. 

When he opened his eyes again, he focused more on where he was exactly. It seemed like a storage container, but there was some outside light and there was some sort of air source coming in and out. There was food and drink on the table in front of him, but he just looked at it. He didn’t trust anything that was just there and he didn’t see where it came from. Even though his stomach was growling, he wasn’t going to give into temptation. At least not yet – he didn’t have a death wish.

He heard a door open and turned to the sound. He heard Moriarty come in, carrying a thick envelope, and talking on a cell phone. “After everything is double checked, he’ll be released,” Moriarty said into the phone. He clicked it off as he came to sit down on the opposite side of the table from John. “Not hungry/”

“No, not really.”

Moriarty took half of the sandwich and bit into it before pulling over a napkin. He sat the sandwich down on it, opening the envelope and pulling out the information that was inside. “Turns out that people like you.”

“Do they?” 

“At least the Iceman does. A clean slate for you to be alive. He doesn’t even have faith in his brother anymore to find you,” Moriarty said. “Passport and everything. He did not disappoint.”

“You’re going to get caught. Again.”

Moriarty chuckled. “That’s not about to happen anytime soon. Also, there soon won’t be a Moriarty.”

“When am I being let go then?” John asked.

“Not yet,” Moriarty said. “Maybe not ever. The problem is that Mycroft was too trusting. That’s his loss and my gain.” He took another bite of the sandwich. “You should eat.”

John looked at Moriarty for a moment before picking up the other half of the sandwich. He bit into it and leaned back, chewing as he thought. He didn’t have anything to fight with to get free, plus he was at a disadvantage due to his leg and the fact that his hand was starting to hurt. There was a bottle of pain killers on the table as well, but he wasn’t about to take those unless Moriarty did so first. “So, where are we exactly?”

“One of the ports in London. From here, to Switerland, and from there – well, Russia is nice this time of year. So is China.”

“And you think I’m just going to go with you?” John asked.

“Do you really have any other choice?”

“Why are you doing this?” John asked. “To punish Sherlock? He doesn’t care.”

Moriarty smirked. “Do you know why he jumped from that roof, John?”

John thought for a moment and shook his head no.

“I like using snipers. One on you, one on Lestrade, one actually having tea with Mrs. Hudson. If he jumped, then you all survived. If he didn’t… well, then he was going to have to spend the rest of his life knowing that he was the death of all of you. The cute thing though – “ Moriarty chuckled. “The adorable thing, really, is that you were the only name he mentioned. You were the only one that he was truly worried about. Why not keep such a valuable piece to keep Sherlock Holmes away from me?”

“Because it won’t. He’ll keep trying to come after you, trying to find any sort of trace of you. And, the longer you drag it out, the less he’s going to worry about laws and working inside of them. He’s got rules, Moriarty – I know you don’t care – but he does. Not all good men have rules.”

Moriarty smirked. “Take some pain pills, John. I think the pain in your leg is going to your head.”

“I’m fine, thank you. More if you had supplies so I could immobilize my leg if you’re not going to let me see anyone.”

“Those supplies are coming and will be here before we leave,” Moriarty said. “For now, I would sit tight and try to eat some more.” He put his gun on the table, getting up and picking up his cell phone to type out a text message.

John looked at the gun and didn’t hesitate this time. He used his good leg to throw himself out of the chair and grab the gun. Moriarty saw what he was doing and moved to counter but John got in a punch with his good hand, grabbing the gun with his bad one. Moriarty slammed down on the bad hand to make John drop the gun, but it backfired. John lifted the gun, his hand shaking, moving it to Moriarty’s face. The gun was lifted higher into the air as John fought for control of it and the gun fired before Moriarty could kick as John’s bad leg. It made John crumple to the ground and he looked up to Moriarty pointing the gun at him. Now he was wishing he took the pain pills in the first place.

“Stay there,” Moriarty said as he backed up a few steps and finished his text message, keeping one eye on John the entire time.

*~*~*~*

Sherlock got out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. The sun was slowly coming up and ships were making their way in and out of the port. He turned to see all the different cargo bins that were there and quickly calculated how many in his mind.

“This is going to be like a needle in a haystack,” Lestrade said. He took the map given to him and started splitting up quadrents for people to look through. 

Sherlock moved over and looked at the map as well. “Which is mine?”

“Ours,” Lestrade said and pointed it out. “I’m not letting you two out of my sight.”

“Thank you,” Irene said as Sherlock turned away from the map. “We might need the help.”

“Let’s just pray that we find him soon. I can’t keep all of the ships in port and there are some who have already left,” Lestrade said. 

“Let’s go then,” Sherlock said as he set off in the direction that Lestrade pointed out on the map. He could hear that Irene was close behind as he turned the corner and started to open doors to all the containers that he could. He was about to kick in another when he stopped and turned to a sound. 

“Was that a gunshot?” Irene asked.

“Yes,” Lestrade said. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock wasn’t sure when Lestrade joined him, but he was glad about it. He turned to the sound of the gunshot and just ran to the general area it was in. He saw that Irene was about to ask something and held up a hand for her to be quiet. The only sound, aside from the natural ones, was the beep of the cell phone in his pocket.

“You don’t put your phone on silent?” Lestrade asked.

“He likes being able to hear things,” Irene retorted.

Sherlock looked at the text and showed it to the other two – extremely hot – was all it said. He opened a reply, not sending it, but showing it to the others – look for cameras. He started to scan the area they were in, walking a bit further in. “Lestrade.”

Lestrade came over and looked up, seeing the camera. He tried the door, finding it locked and motioned Irene and Sherlock behind him. He shot twice at the lock before kicking it in.

Moriarty looked up as the three came in and smiled. He kept the gun aimed at John. “Well, now this I didn’t see.”

“Considering the camera, I doubt that,” Sherlock said as he moved up to be at the same level as Lestrade.

John turned his head towards the sound of Sherlock’s voice, but kept his eyes on Moriarty. 

“Put down your gun and give yourself up. It’s over,” Lestrade said.

“Oh Inspector – you should know that it’s never simply over,” Moriarty said. “Didn’t Sherlock teach you that? Back from the grave and all – along with Miss Adler. I wonder if John has the same supernatural properties that the two of you have.” He cocked the gun.

“Wait,” Lestrade said. He put down his gun and kicked it away from himself. “Now put down the gun. We’ll be able to get you out of here.”

Moriarty chuckled. “What makes you think I want to leave?”

“There’s a backdoor behind you that you could sneak out of,” Sherlock said. “Considering your own resurrection, I don’t think you want to waste your new life.”

“Or we could all listen to John beg for his life,” Moriarty said. “You’re never going to be able to save him, Sherlock. Not from your enemies.”

John took a deep breath before he moved. He struck hard at Moriarty’s knee and rolled, the gun going off and hitting where he had been. Another reason he was glad he got out of the way is that Sherlock was there in a blink of an eye and beating Moriarty as hard as he could. “Sherlock!” he yelled.

Lestrade moved over quickly, pulling Sherlock off before cuffing Moriarty. “I’ll call for an ambulance,” he said.

Sherlock looked down at John and kneeled down next to him, taking the non injured hand. “Are you alright?” he asked, even though he knew the answer was no.

“No,” John whispered, using the last bit of his strength to curl up against Sherlock. He felt a soft kiss on his forehead as they waited for the ambulance to come and held tightly to Sherlock’s hand.


	7. Bent

_If I fall along the way  
Pick me up and dust me off  
And if I get too tired to make it  
Be my breath so I can walk_

_If I need some other love, then  
Give me more than I can stand  
And when my smile gets old and faded  
Wait around I'll smile again_

John slowly opened his eyes, hearing the sounds of the hospital around them, including the beeping of his monitor. He looked around the room, seeing a couple of unopened cards on the tray table, a get well balloon, and a plant that he thought was from his sister. He smiled at seeing Sherlock sleeping in a recliner close enough to the bedside that he could touch him. He decided to let Sherlock sleep as his eyes turned to someone coming into the room. “Hello,” he said quietly to Irene. “Do you need him?”

“Not really,” she said quietly. “I already told him goodbye.”

“Oh.” He paused and then smiled. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about my behavior to you before.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “I’d be the same way with him.”

He looked over at the sleeping Sherlock and nodded.

“What? No bluster of trying to admit you’re not something you are?” she asked.

“Maybe I don’t care in the end. Maybe it doesn’t matter. And maybe it’s the painkillers.”

“I think it’s you,” she said. “Nearly dying has that effect on you.”

“I don’t think I nearly died.”

“Yes you did,” she said. “It’s why you curled up around him until the ambulance came and wouldn’t let go of his hand.”

“What did you do, when he saved your life?”

“Thanked him and ran as far away as I could. It was the best thing for the both of us. The world thought that I was dead, but… well, I don’t have to pretend about that anymore,” she said as she brought out an envelope. “New life. Maybe I’ll stay out of trouble this time.”

There was a low chuckle from the man they both thought were sleeping.

“No comments from the peanut gallery.”

“You can’t stay away from trouble like I can’t stay away from a good puzzle,” Sherlock said as he opened his eyes.

“Well, I’m going to try my best. I’d say that the two of you should try to stay out of trouble as well, but I know that won’t happen,” she said. “Just live up to your new nickname for me.”

“What nickname?” John asked.

“Lovebirds,” she answered before leaving the room.

John sat back in the bed and sighed. “Well, it could be worse.”

“Are your pain meds wearing off?” Sherlock asked.

“Don’t think so.” He took Sherlock’s hand. “Are you stiff from sleeping there?”

“I’ll be fine.” He didn’t let go of John’s hand, tightening his hold on the hand a bit. “I’m sorry. For not being able to tell you what I was really doing. I didn’t think I would have to take that route and then – “

“Then you just wanted to keep me safe. I get it. A small bit, I think.”

Sherlock smiled at that. “Are you going to move back in to Baker Street then?”

“Yes. Only reason I left is because there was too much you around. I couldn’t deal with it.”

Sherlock nodded. “I knew you couldn’t the moment I saw you walk away from the grave that one time. You were limping.”

John blinked before turning his head to Sherlock. “If I was feeling better, I’d hit you.”

“I’ll let you get in a few free punches when you’re feeling better. Not that you really need for me to let you have a free punch.”

John chuckled. “You’re still an ass for doing that.”

“I know. If I could do it differently, I would have. I thought that he was dead.”

“I know.” John paused. “I’m still not gay. It’s just with you.”

Sherlock smiled. “It took Irene to figure out that I’m really not interested in anybody but you.”

John let go of Sherlock’s hand and moved over in the bed. He winced in pain a bit, but Sherlock was up and helping him rearrange the pillows under the broken leg – now in a cast – as well as the pillow under John’s hand with the rest of his arm in a sling. “Room for both of us.”

Sherlock smiled and slipped in next to John. He wrapped an arm around John and relaxed for the first time since everything started. He only looked up when the door opened and saw that it was Mycroft. “Do you need something?”

“Just making sure that the both of you are alright,” Mycroft replied. “And wanting to catch Miss Adler before she left.”

“She left a while ago,” John said and yawned. 

“So, when am I sending out cards? Or are you going to be telling mother?” Mycroft asked.

“Oh piss off Mycroft.”

“Language,” John said.

“Mrs. Hudson’s not around. I did thank her for the plant for you.”

“When were you going to tell me that?” John asked. “Not that I really mind.”

The nurse came into the room and looked at all of them. “I can come back.”

“It’s alright – we’ll go out into the hall,” Mycroft said.

“It’s okay,” John said quietly to Sherlock as he tensed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sherlock nodded and got up, going outside with Mycroft. 

“Thank you,” John said quietly to the nurse.

“The woman that left told me to keep an eye out, due to the way that they argue,” the nurse replied. “Very lovely woman – slipped me some money. Didn’t need to though. Do you want to know what we’ve got you on?”

“It’s helping my pain, so really, I don’t mind not knowing,” John said. “Do you get a lot of doctors?”

“Not really, but usually all want to know about their treatment,” the nurse replied. She drew some blood and made sure that the medicine was going in fine and that all the tubes were unkinked. 

“Oh – what time does visiting hours end?”

“Don’t worry about that,” the nurse said. “I’ll check in on you in a bit.”

“Thank you.” John smiled when Sherlock came back in. “Seems everything’s alright.”

“Good,” Sherlock said and got back in where he was. “What time do I need to leave?”

“She said not to worry about that,” John said. It was the last thing he remembered saying before drifting off to sleep with Sherlock cuddled against him.


	8. Life

_Cause life starts now,  
You've done all the things  
That could kill you somehow  
And you're so far down  
But you will survive this  
Somehow because  
Life starts now_

John smiled as the taxi pulled onto Baker Street and then up to 221B. Sherlock had moved over all of John’s things from the small apartment to make it easier on him. He was happy about that. He didn’t know how he was going to navigate the stairs but he wanted to be there. Sherlock opened the door for John and then moved to help him get out of the cab. “Doing alright?”

“As best as I could be,” John said as he balanced himself on crutches. His hand healed faster than anything else and he didn’t need the sling for it. He just had a brace on it and the doctor said to take it easy. He wasn’t about to argue with that.

“Okay,” Sherlock said, getting the things that John had in the hospital. He smiled at seeing the plant was doing well. 

John hobbled to the door and smiled at Mrs. Hudson. “Just slow.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson said and gave John a hug. “It is so good to have my boys back. The house was so quiet without the both of you. I might regret this when he’s shooting at my wall again though.”

“I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t get too bored,” John said with a grin. He starts to navigate the steps into the flat and then slowly went up the stairs. 

“Are you sure you two don’t want the bottom one? I don’t mind, until your leg is healed.”

“No, it’s alright, Mrs. Hudson. It’s good for me to move now and then,” John called. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome – I’ll bring up tea in a bit.”

John smiled at that, getting up the rest of the stairs and sitting down in his chairs. He got himself comfortable as he watched Sherlock come up the stairs. “It’s like I’ve never left.”

“I thought you would like that,” Sherlock said. “Did Mrs. Hudson say anything?”

“She wanted to know again about changing places and that she’s bringing up tea.”

“Oh good,” Sherlock said. He put the plant by the window to get light and put the rest of the things where he thought John would like them.

“Sherlock?”

“Hrm?” Sherlock asked.

“Sit down for a moment,” John said. “Please.”

Sherlock sat down in his own chair and smiled. “Back home.”

John nodded. “First thing though – realize that I do not want you to stay with me all the time. You should feel free to take cases and I’ll either come with if I can. If I can’t, we’ll find a different way for me to be there.”

“Alright,” Sherlock said. “Although, I think you will be able to.”

John smiled. “Second thing – I might not heal as fast as you or I like. So, let’s take it one day at a time.”

Sherlock smiled, getting up and kissing John. “One day at a time,” he whispered as Mrs. Hudson came up with the tea. Their somewhat normal life started again.


End file.
